


The Scruffy Look

by bhaer



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Facial Hair, M/M, Oral Sex, That's it, That's the show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-03
Updated: 2013-07-03
Packaged: 2017-12-17 12:46:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/867704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bhaer/pseuds/bhaer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kinkmeme fill. Combeferre forgets to shave. Courfeyrac doesn't mind at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Scruffy Look

**Author's Note:**

> Taken from this tumblr post:
> 
> "Imagine Combeferre staying up doing research for a paper and then just like over the course of the week getting really into it so he forgets/doesn’t have time to shave and so when Courfeyrac comes over like the following Friday he nearly passes out because holy shit scruffy Combeferre is fucking hot and then Combeferre just fucks him right there on their kitchen floor like an animal, complete with growling and biting"

“It’s done!”

Combeferre raised his fist in a triumphant gesture and then gently closed his laptop. Dull clapping echoed from the kitchen.

“How many sick babies have you saved?” Courfeyrac called as he poked his head through the kitchen door, brandishing a wooden spoon dripping with chocolate batter.

“None, but I _have_ successfully proven that there’s a link between childhood cancer and the presence of tobacco smoke in or around the child’s primary residence.”

Courfeyrac frowned and licked his spoon.

“I thought you were literally snatching adorable babies from the brink of death from the way you went on about this fucking paper,” he said.

“The link has been well documented; I’m not making any new discoveries. However, considering this paper is forty percent of my grade, I think I deserve congratulations,” Combeferre said. He stretched, pulling his arms over his head. Something in his back audibly popped. He leaned back his armchair and put a hand to his face; he recoiled feeling the roughness of day-old stubble.

“Jesus, I look like a mess,” he muttered. Courfeyrac raised his eyebrows and dropped his spoon into the sink before skulking cat-like into the living room.

“I wouldn’t quite categorize your new look like that,” he said thoughtfully. 

It certainly was a new look for Combeferre. His crisp button-downs and khakis were replaced with a too-small, threadbare NASA t-shirt and plaid boxers. Courfeyrac had never seen his friend anything but clean shaven before, but now Combeferre’s lower face was covered in little brown bristles while his normally combed hair lay matted and perhaps a little greasy.

“I’ve just been so focused on this essay. Sorry for being a wet blanket. We were supposed to make brownies for Bousset, weren’t we?” Combeferre said apologetically.

“They’re in the oven and you’re such an awful cook I probably would have done it all anyway. Poor Bousset’s already broken his femur; he doesn’t need burnt baked goods too.”

Combeferre let the teasing remark slide.

“I should take a shower and shave, shouldn’t I? I feel so gross,” He muttered.

“Um,” said Courfeyrac.

“Um?”

“I like it. The scruffy look suits you.”

Combeferre thoughtfully ran a hand over his face.

“I feel like a homeless man,” he said doubtfully.

“A very cute homeless man,” Courfeyrac said. Combeferre eyed his boyfriend skeptically. An awkward silence passed.

“Are you really done with your work?” Courfeyrac said.

Combeferre nodded and without missing a second, Courfeyrac jumped into his lap. Combeferre looked surprised but any objections were soon drowned out as Courfeyrac planted an extremely wet kiss to Combeferre’s jawline. Combeferre let out a small moan and broke away to deposit his laptop safely on the floor.

“You taste like chocolate. Did you lick the spoon?” he said confusedly. Courfeyrac straddled Combeferre’s hips.

“Obviously,” Courfeyrac said as their mouths collided. Courfeyrac kissed wildly, passionately, with no small amount of tongue and saliva passed between them. Combeferre was happy to lay back and let his boyfriend tackle his mouth.

They broke apart for air, nose to nose.

“I’ve been waiting all freaking week for you to be finished so I could do this,” Courfeyrac said. He licked Combeferre’s cheek then burrowed his teeth into his neck.

When he came up, his face was red where the stubble dug into him and Combeferre was sporting a purple welt, getting darker by the second.

“I really didn’t know you liked the scruffy thing,” Combeferre said. He began to kiss back with force, almost sending Courfeyrac flying off the armchair. Courfeyrac managed to hold onto the NASA t-shirt for support.

“You’ve been driving me insane since it started,” Courfeyrac breathed. He pushed his hands down to Combeferre’s chest. The t-shirt was tight around his glorious pectoral muscles and well-toned abdomen. Combeferre’s surprisingly athletic physique was something of a secret Courfeyrac jealously guarded.

Courfeyrac said something that vaguely sounded like “I’m going to burn all of your grandpa sweaters,” but Combeferre could hardly hear over the rush of blood in his ears as Courfeyrac’s hands circled lower and lower. One grasped Combeferre’s soft chest hair and the other massaged his lower abdomen where another tuft of hair sprouted.

A beeping interrupted them.

“That would be the brownies,” Courfeyrac moaned. He reluctantly got off of Combeferre’s lap, eyeing his boyfriend’s erection, clearly visible through his boxer shorts, and walked to the kitchen.

Combeferre followed and waited until the brownies were safely cooling in the fridge before grabbing Courfeyrac and pushing him against the counter.

There was a struggle and Courfeyrac slipped and fell on the linoleum floor. He tugged on Combeferre’s leg until both men were lying on the cool ground, their kisses becoming more and more wild.

Courfeyrac, thinking he would burst if he waited any longer, reached into Combeferre’s boxers and pulled out his penis. It was pink and hard as rock.

“ _Ah_ ,” Combeferre moaned.

“You’ve been working so hard. I don’t suppose you’ve gotten any since you started the paper?” Courfeyrac asked with a devilish grin. Combeferre shook his head and lay back. His penis stood straight up, begging to be stroked.

“I guess such hard work deserves a reward,” Courfeyrac said before plunging down on Combeferre’s cock. It wasn’t thick but it was long and only with practice was Courfeyrac able to fit the entirety of it in his mouth. Combeferre lay passively, whimpering after a particularly long suck. He came quickly and Courfeyrac swallowed his seed graciously.

For a while they both lay on the linoleum, breathing heavily. Courfeyrac’s shirt had been lost in the living room and Combeferre’s boxers were around his knees, his penis lying limply between his legs.

Combeferre sat up and hitched his boxer shorts up to his hips. 

“You look like an animal with your hair like that,” Courfeyrac laughed, patting down the tousled mess. Combeferre raised an eyebrow. He looked down. Courfeyrac was clearly hard.

Without another word he straddled Courfeyrac’s hips, pushing his stubbled face into the crook between Courfeyrac’s collarbone and neck. His teeth clamped gently on the sensitive skin. It was sharp enough to leave Courfeyrac gasping. 

Combeferre dragged his face lower and lower, the rough bristles of his beard leaving little red lines on Courfeyrac’ smooth chest and occasionally stopping for an affectionate nip of skin. Courfeyrac, barely able to contain his excitement, pushed Combeferre’s head down. He knotted his fingers in Combeferre’s hair.

Combeferre followed suggestion remarkably well. He managed to throw Courfeyrac’s jeans to the side and began sucking him off, making sure to let his stubble brush against Courfeyrac’s balls.

Courfeyrac came between the thrusts of Combeferre’s mouth, spraying semen in his beard. It dripped, white and hot, down Combeferre’s chin.

“I’m sorry,” Courfeyrac said exhaustedly.

“Don’t be,” Combeferre said. He rubbed his chin and, fingers wet with semen, licked his hand.

“I think we’re in agreement that the beard thing is a good idea,” Courfeyrac gasped.

Combeferre laughed.“What can I say? I’m a fast learner.”


End file.
